


Interlude: Barnabas

by SemperIntrepida



Series: Elegiad [5]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, shoutout to edith hamilton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 08:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21472963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SemperIntrepida/pseuds/SemperIntrepida
Summary: In which it's evening on the Adrestia, and Barnabas tells Kassandra a story about the fickle nature of the gods.
Relationships: Barnabas & Kassandra (Assassin's Creed)
Series: Elegiad [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1531004
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Interlude: Barnabas

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot is part of a linked series of stories, and while you don't have to read them all, they do combine into a unified narrative.

Evening on the Adrestia: lanterns pushing back the darkness, ink-black waters shimmering with reflections, waves lapping gently against wood. Most of the crew had gone to port. The few that remained sat on the foredeck with their legs dangling off the sides of the ship, bickering and telling jokes as they mended their clothes and gear. The wineskin that passed between them never seemed to stop.

Kassandra could hear them from the stern of the ship, where she lounged on the deck with her back resting against the chest where she kept her gear. She had a bowl of good wine in one hand while she watched Barnabas pace to and fro in front of her. On a typical evening, she'd be in port too, drinking at a kapeleion, arm wrestling drachmae out of overconfident men, maybe even finding a beautiful woman's bed to call home for the night. But on this evening, here she was, watching Barnabas talk to himself while she tried very hard not to scratch at the scabs from the scrapes that covered her arms and legs after her escape from Megaris. That ordeal had left her exhausted and in a pensive mood she hadn't found her way out of yet.

She needed the rest, and the wine wasn't hurting, either. And really, what could Barnabas possibly be doing?

He paced along the stern's railing, moving his lips but making no sounds. Every once in a while he gestured with his arms. Was he praying? She didn't think so. If he prayed, he'd do it properly, at a shrine with an offering in hand.

So not a prayer, but a conversation, perhaps?

Once her curiosity finally bested her, she spoke up. "Barnabas, who are you talking to?"

He froze before slowly turning around, and she felt a bit guilty for interrupting him. "Ahh... Everyone, Captain!" he said. "The gods. The sea. My family. Even... sometimes..." His eyes looked down at the deck.

"Me?" she suggested.

Was he blushing? She couldn't tell in this light.

"Aye. But usually when you're not around..." He scratched the back of his neck.

She offered him the bowl of wine, and he crossed the deck and took it, sipping tentatively. She made a _drink more_ motion. He was never more excited than when he talked about the gods, and, ever the optimist, he always tried to make the best of every situation. She could use a little of that right now.

"Barnabas, will you tell me a story?"

He seemed surprised. "I have many stories. Is there one you wanted to hear?"

"One that you enjoy telling."

He handed her the bowl of wine and cleared his throat. "I first heard this story when I was a boy, on the Silver Islands..." he said, and Kassandra settled back to listen as he began his tale of Zeus and Leto, a daughter of Titans.

Now Leto was a lady of great modesty, always hiding her face behind a veil of white linen. No one really knew if she was beautiful or not, but there were always rumors, you see, and one day Zeus heard them while he was wandering the earth in disguise as he often did.

Zeus wanted to see Leto's mysterious face for himself, so he waited until he saw her alone in her garden, and then he bid the wind god Zephyros to summon a sudden gale, like a storm in springtime. The gale took hold of Leto's veil in its unseen hands and lifted it away, revealing her face to be one of regal beauty. The sight of it made Zeus fall in love.

He decided he would have her, and he pursued her in his wily way until they finally lay together. Poor Leto, who had no idea that Zeus was already betrothed to Hera, the most vengeful of goddesses. Poor Leto, who was abandoned by Zeus as quickly as he had fallen in love. Poor Leto, who now carried Zeus's child, and was cast out from her home for fear of Hera's wrath.

Wherever Leto roamed, no one would help her. All doors were closed to her, and all lands too, as Hera decreed that Leto would never give birth on terra firma.

For months Leto searched for a place outside Hera's reach, a seemingly impossible task, and finally she took to the sea in despair. She wandered from island to island, and none would allow her ship safe harbor. By now she was so swollen with child that surely she would bear twins, if she could ever find a place to do so safely.

But not all was lost. There were gods who looked upon Leto with sympathy, and great Poseidon was one of them. He gently nudged Leto's ship with his waves until she came across a tiny barren rock that seemed to float on the sea. The rock was called Delos when someone remembered it, which was not often. But when Leto begged for help, the little island of Delos opened its arms in welcome, and as soon as she set foot upon its rocky shore, Zeus himself reached down and anchored the island to the earth far below with four immense pillars of the whitest marble.

Leto may have found a place to give birth, but Hera was not done with her meddling ways, for she kidnapped Eleuthia, the goddess of childbirth. This would doom Leto to futile labor until mother and babies perished.

The other gods had seen enough. They came together, Poseidon bringing pearls, others carrying gold and other precious stones, and they used the treasures to craft a wondrous necklace more beautiful than any other. They tempted Hera with the necklace, and when she was desperate to have it, they told her it would be hers only if she let Eleuthia go.

Hera finally relented, and Leto soon gave birth to the twin gods Artemis and Apollo. The island of Delos became Apollo's favorite, and it grew lush and fertile and wealthy from his influence, and was known as the heavenly isle from then on.

"The gods are cruel," Kassandra said.

Barnabas brought his hands together in a loud clap. "Yes!" he said. "But as cruel as they are, they can also be kind. And this is the way of mortals also, for we too were made by the hands of the gods."

Perhaps he was right. He certainly believed it, and with the lanterns lit behind him he seemed to glow with the strength of his faith. Or maybe that was the wine talking. Where Barnabas kept up a running conversation with the gods, Kassandra had only heard silence. It was probably better that way, for the attention of the gods only seemed to cause trouble.

"I'm sorry if my story wasn't entertaining," he said, speaking to her silence.

She realized she'd been frowning from within her thoughts. "What? No!" she said, clambering to her feet and putting her hand on his shoulder. "_I'm_ sorry. I liked your story very much." She smiled and guided him to the railing where they could both look out at the stars above the sea. "You just gave me a lot to think about."

"You've been doing that a great deal lately. Thinking."

She nodded and leaned against the rail. "You know, all I wanted was to leave Kephallonia. Now I have a mother and a father to find, and far more questions than answers."

"The gods have plans for you, Kassandra."

She blew out her breath and shook her head.

"You don't believe it, but it's true. You have the blood of kings—"

"And I'm exiled from Sparta."

He put his hand on her forearm. "Most mortals don't survive a fall like you did as a child. And in battle, you have the same gifts the gods give their heroes. Surely you know this?"

Of course she did. "I just want to know why, and what for."

"Keep living your life and you'll find out."

She grinned. "Are you telling me to quit brooding?"

"I'd never _tell_ the mighty Kassandra to do anything. But I might suggest..."

That made her laugh, and she held her hands out in surrender. "Fine, fine, I'll pull my head out of my ass."

"Ha!" he crowed in triumph, looking very pleased with himself.

"Now _I'm_ going to suggest we refill that bowl of wine," she said, nodding at the wineskin that lay on the bench beside them. "And you can remind me why Delos belongs to Apollo and not Artemis."

Barnabas smiled and reached for the wine. "Gladly, Captain."


End file.
